


Ironclad

by Sholio



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Case Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 07:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15724515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: Everyone thinks Howard Stark is the armored 1940s superhero called Ironclad. He's not. It's Peggy.





	Ironclad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Redrikki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/gifts).



**May 9, 1946**

"Well, this should put paid to the rumors that Howard Stark and Ironclad are the same person," Howard declared cheerfully, slapping a newspaper on the table in the mansion's enormous dining room.

Peggy added milk to her tea and did not look at the paper. As if she hadn't had to look at the infernal thing for the entire day, all over the bullpen at the SSR, a copy on every desk. The front-page photo was so dark and grainy, despite the newsroom photographer's desperate attempts to lighten it, that between that and the cheap paper, there was only the caption to claim that the picture showed someone in an iron suit grappling with an airplane laden with poison gas in the skies above the city. Above it, the headline declared: IRONCLAD SAVES STARK! and below in smaller print, BIG APPLE WATCHES DESPERATE MIDAIR STRUGGLE.

"Way ahead of you, Mr. Stark," Angie declared happily.

"She has already purchased twelve copies," Peggy said.

"Fifteen. I'm gonna frame 'em and hang 'em everywhere."

"I shall move."

"But you just got here. _We_ just got here." Angie had been pingponging all over the mansion all evening; even now, at midnight, when both of them had to be up early for work, she showed no signs of slowing down. "You can have three in your bedroom, Peg."

"I certainly do not want that! It is nothing short of a miracle," Peggy said, "that we've made it through this entire business without anyone --"

"Except me," Angie said. 

"-- except you finding out that the person in the Ironclad armor is me." It had been a damned close call with her SSR coworkers. _Much_ too close. She didn't dare tell them; there was no telling what the SSR would do with that information, let alone with the power the armor offered. Everything that had happened with the Nitramene and Midnight Oil had shown what would happen if any of Howard's inventions fell into the wrong hands ... and none of it had given her much confidence that the US government was the _right_ hands. Howard certainly didn't think so.

She kept telling herself it was better off this way. She certainly had more freedom to operate if the SSR didn't know the truth. Had anything really changed in the last few months, since she'd been hired on as a glorified secretary at the SSR, trusted to do nothing more than make the coffee? The armor had been her salvation then. With it, she'd been able to make a difference, the difference she couldn't make in an office where all she was ever allowed to do was file paperwork for cases no one trusted her to work on.

_Yes, it has changed._

It had changed in Belarus. It had changed again when Daniel trusted her, even though she couldn't share the deepest of her secrets with him. And most of all, it had hurt ... damn it, it _had_ hurt, letting them think she'd sat out the entire fight, incapacitated by Dottie, while Jack and Daniel handled Ivchenko, and Ironclad stopped Howard's plane. Even Dottie had escaped.

They didn't blame her, was the worst part. No one in the bullpen had blamed her. _Of course she was useless in the final fight,_ the looks had seemed to say. _It's only what we expected. And she did much better than we thought she would._

Peggy reached for the paper, reluctantly dragging it toward her and tuning out Howard's rapid-fire babble and Angie's cheerful interjections. Howard was talking about changes he wanted to make to the suit. Peggy tried not to sigh; this probably meant more late-night fittings and more bruises as he tried to work out the details of some new change to the jetpack or some ridiculous new attachment he wanted to add.

The article about Ironclad and the midair rescue of Howard Stark (and not-so-incidental removal of a dozen canisters of poison gas from the skies over the city) took up most of the front page of today's _Times_. Below it, Jack Thompson's face smiled at her from a smaller column of type talking about his quick thinking nabbing the Russian spy responsible for the near-attack on Times Square. No mention of Daniel, she noted -- though to give Jack credit, he'd gracefully shared with Daniel his hero's welcome this morning in the bullpen, even stepping aside to let Daniel have the lion's share. It was only later, when the official accolades had begun, that Daniel's name had been conspicuously absent. It was Jack alone who had been taken aside by the Senator's aides for private congratulations.

Daniel had claimed he didn't mind. "Didn't expect anything else from him, tell you the truth."

"We known our value, though, don't we?" Peggy had told him. "It doesn't matter what the public thinks, or Congress ... or Thompson. What matters is what we know about our own part in it, however small it might have been. And you did very well -- even Jack Thompson knows it."

Daniel had given her a long look. "How's the head?" he'd asked at last.

"Oh," Peggy said, not even having to fake a wince -- she'd taken a few knocks in the fight with Dottie and in the armor as well. "Still hurts a good deal, but I'll be fine."

"Sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"Not at all. I'll be fine."

"Come on, Peggy," Daniel murmured, leaning closer under the cover of the speculative babble in the bullpen, everyone focused on the Senatorial visit and none at all on the two of them. "You aren't going to tell me you _really_ sat out the whole fight locked in a storeroom after Dottie shoved you in there. Especially when you won't even go to the doctor for the knock to the head you claim you took."

"Daniel," she said gently, reprovingly, though she had to force himself to look him in the eyes. "You helped me bandage it. There was a good deal of blood."

"Yeah, like you might get from a shallow scalp wound. Where _were_ you while Thompson and I were taking on Ivchenko, Peggy?"

She had never been so glad in her life to be interrupted by a fellow agent asking her to take some paperwork off his hands.

But she could have said, _I did what you did, Daniel. I did what I had to do, and nothing more._

 

***

 

She expected things to go back to normal after that, more or less. It was somewhat to her surprise that they did not. Not even, in some ways, as she might have hoped. Daniel still gave her speculative looks around the bullpen, even asked her out for drinks a couple of times. She rather suspected his main objective was to pump her for information and thus turned him down, not without a certain amount of regret. (Well, a lot of regret. But she couldn't afford to get too close. Not right now, not with Daniel already being suspicious about her.)

As for Jack, he was confirmed as the new head of the SSR, as she'd expected. The field assignments, for both herself and Daniel, were a surprise.

"I know you think you muffed it in the end with Underwood, Carter," Jack said, leaning back behind Dooley's desk -- and it always _was _going to be Dooley's desk; she suspected Jack knew that. He looked small sitting there, in a way Dooley never had. "But you did good. You really did. Hell, you got away with your life, which is more than I can say for most of the other agents who went up against her. So you didn't get a win. It happens."__

__Peggy smiled politely back, and tried not to think about the metal-and-grease stink of the armor, the strain in her muscles, the sweat and blood trickling into her eyes as she'd struggled desperately with Howard's plane, trying to turn it back, trying to talk to Howard through the helmet, shouting above the roar of the engines and trying get some sense into him before it was too late ..._ _

__"Anyway," Jack said, reaching for a file amid the clutter on his desk, "it's just a milk run, out in Red Hook. Surveillance detail. You do this one and we'll see how we go from there."_ _

__He gave it to her with a look as if he expected her to argue, but she simply took the file folder and flipped it open. A field case. She drew a breath. It wasn't much, but it was a start. More than she'd had six months ago._ _

__"C'mon," Jack said, "don't fall over yourself in gratitude or anything. Look, Carter, I _know_ what you're capable of, okay? But we gotta take baby steps here. We can't rock the boat."_ _

__She looked across the desk at him. He looked exhausted, blue shadows under his eyes. She knew he'd been here before anyone, and stayed after the day shift had left, trying desperately to get up to speed on everything Dooley had left behind. She could have said something cruel, could have pointed out that he'd been promoted into his current position _because_ he had a history of not rocking boats, and those who signed his paycheck probably thought that they'd bought themselves a more tractable SSR chief than Dooley had ever been._ _

__But he didn't have to do this, either. He could've let both her and Daniel go back to paperwork and coffee detail. He hadn't._ _

__"I'll do my best, Chief," she said, and lifted the file in a salute._ _

__"I wasn't worried until you said that."_ _

__

__***_ _

__

__"Damn it, Peggy, raise your arm!"_ _

__"I'm trying. Have you tried to hold up _your_ arms for hours while they're encased in metal, Howard?"_ _

__"I just need to check the range of motion in this joint ..."_ _

__Peggy sighed and decided that after another half hour of Howard's adjustments to the suit, she was going to get out of it and go to bed, no matter what. To her relief, it was only a couple of minutes later when Howard flipped up his welding mask and stepped back. He'd taken off his jacket and tie, as he usually did in the shop, and was wearing only a grease-stained shirt. "Try that."_ _

__Peggy swung the suit's arm. Even with her exhausted muscles moving it, she could feel a difference. "It feels lighter," she declared, delighted._ _

__"Yeah, it's a new hydraulic assist of my own devising."_ _

__"Didn't it have those before? Based on hydraulics used on vehicles during the war, I believe you said."_ _

__"Good memory," Howard said. "Yeah, they're developed from hydraulic power-assists used for some of the heavy equipment during the war. Designed in part by yours truly." Howard flashed a grin. "They're developing it now for the civilian market. They'll have power-steered cars by the fifties, you just watch --"_ _

__If he got going, she was going to be here all night. "Howard, _focus."__ _

__"Right. Anyway, this is an improved system. The old one is highly vulnerable to damage, and anything that damages your limbs will freeze them up. As you've no doubt already experienced."_ _

__"Indeed." It was a very disturbing feeling when a shock to her limb caused the entire thing to freeze. Fortunately the armor was intimidating enough that few enemies had tried to attack her directly ... yet. The one time it had happened so far was when a mob enforcer had swung a baseball bat at the joint of her knee, causing the whole thing to seize up. It had been a claustrophobic trapped feeling, even though she'd had no trouble getting out of the armor after the fight. But it had made her very aware that she was sealed in a tin can._ _

__"Compared to the old hydraulics," Howard went on, "the new system is stronger, more efficient, and better shielded. Every part of the system can be closed off with valves, so you'll still have limited mobility in that limb even when it's damaged. Go on, test it out, see how you like it."_ _

__Peggy raised an arm and then tried a cautious kick. "I admit, Howard, this is -- oh --!" She'd swung too far, driving a foot into the concrete-reinforced wall of Howard's hidden lab beneath the mansion. After several months of wearing the suit, she'd become used to how much effort it took to move it, and now suddenly she was having to recalibrate, a difficult thing if she was fresh but even harder with tired muscles. "I trust that won't be too difficult to fix," she remarked, pulling her armored boot out of the wall. The toe was dented, but it only went along with all the other scratches and scrapes._ _

__"Yeah, how 'bout you think about going to bed, Peg."_ _

__Howard helped her pull off the armor. She could put it on and take it off herself, but it was much faster with someone to help; she'd had Angie helping her lately too, somewhat over her better judgment. Under the armor, she wore slacks and a cotton shirt, with pads strapped onto the elbows and knees. The padding wasn't strictly necessary, and she could in fact wear the armor over any street clothes (though she had to hike up a skirt) but some clothes were more punishing to her joints and limbs than others._ _

__She drank an unpleasant but much-needed cup of coffee (liberally laced with brandy) as she watched Howard oil the suit and set it up again, until it was standing in the trailer that they used to transport it. When he'd first approached her about the suit, as she had struggled with the transition to the civilian SSR, he had told her what he was doing: that he was trying to recreate what he had done with Steve, but this time, in steel and engine parts. She had punched him. She still didn't regret that. It wasn't that he wanted to _replace_ Steve; she'd understood that even then. It was that Steve was his one great success, the one thing he'd done that was (as he would later say to her) truly _good_ \-- and Howard was trying to recapture that, but not in fragile flesh and bone, this time._ _

__But his suit still needed flesh and bone, and a human mind, to drive it. Was it really so different from what he'd done before?_ _

__Had Steve felt like she did ... as if he was piloting a suit that concealed all traces of who he used to be?_ _

__"Did you know," Howard said absently as he worked, "that there are still rumors that I'm Ironclad?"_ _

__"Goodness, Howard, I wonder why. You've all but put the Stark logo on the thing."_ _

__"We'll have to do some kind of PR event. Me at the microphone, you flying around above. Maybe we can arrange some criminals for you to apprehend. Russian spies play well with the media these days."_ _

__"Unlike you," Peggy said, "I am not in love with the idea of my picture in the papers."_ _

__"They won't know it's you."_ _

__"And they never shall, if I can help it."_ _

__

__***_ _

__

__Now that she was doing field work, Peggy discovered (paradoxically) that it had actually been easier to be Ironclad back when her duties mainly consisted of typing and filing._ _

__She had been keeping the Ironclad armor in the basement of the phone company building. Howard, through bribery or outright purchase, had secured a corner of the basement for their use and had a false wall installed. All she had to do was run downstairs, and it wasn't like anyone was going to notice in the middle of an emergency that the SSR's glorified secretary had vanished for an hour or two._ _

__Now, though ... it wasn't like she could haul the armor with her everywhere. Howard said he was trying to come up with a way that she could call it to her when she needed it, but as far as she could tell that was one of those Howard Stark fantasies that might become a reality ten years from now but certainly was no help in the current situation._ _

__... still, the thought didn't occur to her until after the fighting was done and she was handcuffing three suspects that there was something refreshing about doing it all herself. No armor, just herself and her gun and the tactics that had been taught to her by combat instructors during the war (as well as a few of Michael's dirty tricks from wrestling matches in childhood)._ _

__"Peggy," Jack said, sauntering up behind her. She'd heard the SSR car pull up, but she'd been preoccupied. Jack looked at the three men on the ground and at her. "You were supposed to be doing surveillance."_ _

__"It was my judgment that they were pulling out of this area and if I hadn't moved, we would have lost them. And I called for backup," she informed him. "Oh, _do_ stay down." One of them was trying to get up again. Some people just didn't learn. Peggy kicked him in the face and this time he wisely decided to stay put._ _

__"I know you did." Jack looked at the groaning suspects again. "I'm thinking maybe I could start giving you more challenging assignments."_ _

__"Oh, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I might tear a stocking or break a heel, and then where would we be?"_ _

__"I think you broke a heel on that guy's face."_ _

__"My heels are fine," Peggy said. "They're sturdy."_ _

__

__***_ _

__

__In theory, it should have been easy to walk away from the Ironclad armor now that she was getting field assignments, but ... it wasn't. As Ironclad, she got to do things Peggy Carter never could. Her job at the SSR was bound up in rules and red tape, and most of what she did was classified. Agent Carter was a small cog in a large machine. Ironclad was able to sail past the rules and regulations to help the people of the city directly._ _

__She would not dare admit this because Howard would never let her hear the end of it, but being Ironclad was _fun._ She stopped robberies and saved people from house fires. She even rescued an actual kitten from a tree. It wasn't that the accolades mattered to her (she told herself); it wasn't why she did it. But it was ... pleasant, at times._ _

__People loved Ironclad. _Kids_ loved Ironclad. Howard cheerfully claimed that Ironclad toys were going to be the hot thing this upcoming Christmas. _ _

__Howard had devised a speaker that broadcast her voice and disguised it, making it deeper and slightly garbled. Peggy tried to remember to use an American accent whenever she had to speak as Ironclad, just by way of making it even harder to connect the armor to her real identity._ _

__WHO IS IRONCLAD? speculated the papers. There were entire columns in the tabloids comparing timelines of Howard's various public appearances versus Ironclad sightings in New York, speculating whether they could be the same person or not. Peggy would not have been at all surprised if Howard kept a scrapbook of these (or more likely had patient Mr. Jarvis do it for him)._ _

__Somehow, with Angie's help and a good deal of ingenuity, she continued to live her double life as the summer wore on. Howard continued to make minor improvements: an upgraded system of cooling fans (quite necessary for comfort in July), a faster and safer rocket pack ("Much less chance of exploding!" Howard had told her cheerfully, with a less comforting effect than he no doubt intended), and better articulated gauntlets so she could pick things up more easily._ _

__And then, just when she was almost getting used to her new normal, the _second_ set of metal armor showed up._ _

__

__***_ _

__

__IRONCLAD GONE BAD? trumpeted the headlines of the tabloids. The _Times_ was more staid, or at least more descriptive: METAL MAN ROBS MIDTOWN BANK - NO COMMENT FROM STARK._ _

__"Howard," Peggy said, slapping the paper down in front of him. "You didn't tell me you made two."_ _

__"I _didn't_ make two."_ _

__Peggy pointed wordlessly to the blurry photo of the armor dimly visible through the cloud of dust where it had unceremoniously crashed through the wall of a Manhattan bank._ _

__"It's a challenge," Howard muttered. "A challenge to me. Er, you."_ _

__"Yes, well, you'd best reassure the public that you had nothing to do with it before they come for your head with pitchforks and torches. _Again."__ _

__She was expecting an uncomfortable conversation when she got to work, and was unsurprised to see Jack appear out of his office as soon as she walked in and beckon her with a peremptory wave of his arm._ _

__"An assignment for me?" she asked, closing the door behind her._ _

__Jack held up the paper and stared at her over the top of it._ _

__"I don't see what this has to do with me." At the same time, she had to steel her spine: how much had he figured out?_ _

__"What's your buddy Stark up to?" Jack asked, and the tension inside her uncoiled, though only slightly. "You had so much fun clearing his name the last time, you just want to do it again?"_ _

__"I assure you, Chief Thompson, he had nothing to do with this."_ _

__"Is that what he's telling you, or what your gut says?"_ _

__It took her a moment to realize the implication that Jack trusted her instincts, too. "Both," she said slowly. "That is, he _does_ say he's innocent. And I believe him. Much like the last time," she added._ _

__"There's a difference between not guilty and innocent," Jack said._ _

__"Not legally." She grimaced. "Yes, I understand what you mean. And Howard _did_ have some culpability last time. I think that's also true in this case. This armor is clearly based off Howard's designs."_ _

__Jack flashed her a quick grin. "That's the first time I've been able to get you to admit he _did_ build the thing."_ _

__Damn! She hadn't seen the trap until she walked right in. "Oh, come now, the entire city knows that Howard built it. Or at least designed it. But he didn't build this one. Someone else did."_ _

__"I'll lay you odds that if Stark didn't build the second one, he has some idea who did." Jack tapped the desk. "Tell me I'm wrong."_ _

__Peggy didn't answer. She had suspicions along those lines, too._ _

__"You want us to haul him in and question him? Because that's the logical next step."_ _

__"He won't tell you anything," Peggy said. "And his lawyers will have him out in mere hours. Let me talk to him first."_ _

__"I can give you some time, but not a whole lot." Jack drummed his fingers on his desktop. "Sure there's nothing you want to come clean about, Peggy?"_ _

__"If you've a question to ask, Chief Thompson, I suggest you come out and ask it."_ _

__Jack half-smiled and shook his head. "Send in Sousa on your way out. I want to talk to him."_ _

__Daniel was, indeed, hovering around outside Jack's office. Peggy tried to smile politely while not making eye contact and ducking around him. It didn't work. "Peggy!"_ _

__"Direct orders from the chief," she tried. "Also, he wants to see you."_ _

__"Peggy, c'mon, what the heck --"_ _

__"I'm sorry, Daniel, we'll have to talk later!"_ _

__Smooth, she thought to herself as she all but fled the SSR bullpen. Very smooth, professional spy Agent Carter._ _

__

__***_ _

__

__She found Howard in the secret lab, buried up to the elbows in a filing cabinet. The Ironclad suit stood immobile in the corner._ _

__"At least you're not trying to flee the country this time," Peggy remarked, leaning against the wall and folding her arms._ _

__"I can do you one better than that, Peg," Howard said without looking up. "Aha!" He slapped a folder on the workbench. "I can tell you who our new metal man is."_ _

__"Trying to beat the SSR at their own game, are you?" She reached for the file. "Anton Vanko? Who is that?"_ _

__"Scientist who worked with me on the original Ironclad prototype. I had to let him go because of, let's say, irreconcilable creative differences."_ _

__"Meaning his ego was bigger than yours?" Peggy flipped the file open and found a photo of a dark-haired man, clipped to Stark Industries hiring paperwork._ _

__"Meaning that I came to realize he had every intention of selling the prototype to Russia. Not so much of an issue while the war was going on, but afterwards I decided that I wasn't in the mood to put an army of flying metal men in the hands of the likes of Leviathan."_ _

__"How very noble of you. Was that the prototype suit that robbed a Manhattan bank yesterday, by any chance?"_ _

__"He didn't take the suit with him," Howard said. "I'm not _that_ careless. I think he must have built his own copy. Obviously an inferior copy lacking my later refinements."_ _

__"I'm sure." Peggy flipped through a few pages of the file. It was thin, mainly just paperwork associated with Vanko's time at Stark Industries. She turned back to the hiring paperwork and tapped Vanko's address. "Do you suppose he still lives in New Jersey?"_ _

__

__***_ _

__

__The house was a nondescript clapboard in a Jersey City suburb. Howard parked his gleaming Bentley in the empty driveway._ _

__Peggy checked her gun in her handbag. "Is that really necessary?" Howard murmured._ _

__"Says the man who built a suit of armor which is in essence a flying weapons platform."_ _

__"Which I still say we should have brought. That gun's not going to do much if he's wearing the armor."_ _

__"Have you heard of diplomacy, Howard?"_ _

__"I'm all in favor of it," Howard said as they got out of the car. He reached back inside and slung a satchel over his shoulder. "Just not when it involves physical harm directed at my person."_ _

__"You could stay in the car, then."_ _

__But he came with her to the door, and waited while she knocked, rang the bell, knocked again. After waiting, and walking to the edge of the porch to check for curtains drawn back or neighbors peeking out of doors, Peggy went to the door, knelt, and got out her lock picks._ _

__"Approved SSR technique, I take it?"_ _

__"Make yourself useful and shield me from the view of anyone passing by on the street, would you?"_ _

__She let herself into a quiet front room. The shades were drawn, the room dim. Scattered clothing and papers made it clear that Anton Vanko was anything but a tidy housekeeper._ _

__"Anton?" Howard called, poking his head in after her._ _

__Peggy kept a hand inside her purse as the two of them proceeded cautiously into the kitchen. Here the mess was even worse: dirty dishes stacked in the sink, half-eaten sandwiches leaking their contents onto coffee-stained blueprints._ _

__Howard lifted a coffee cup from one of the sheets of paper and examined it. Peggy took a look, but it was nothing but indecipherable diagrams and equations. "What do you see?" she asked._ _

__"Looks like he was trying to solve the same problems I was working on in the last few months before I got a working version of the suit ready to deploy. If there's any question Vanko's our guy, I guess this puts it to rest."_ _

__"If that's true, where is he?" Peggy picked up a metal device on the countertop, trailing wires, then put it back down._ _

__"Could be out. Coulda left town. There's no car out there, after all. But more to the point, where's his lab? He didn't build that thing in his living room." Howard looked around as if he expected a lab to materialize out of the kitchen's appliances._ _

__Perhaps it wasn't entirely out of the question. Howard had any number of hidden labs, after all. Peggy tapped the floor with the toe of her shoe. "If you were going to hide a lab in a house this small, Howard, where would you put it?"_ _

__They checked the kitchen, living room, and two small bedrooms with no luck. Peggy opened the kitchen door and looked out into an overgrown backyard with a weed-grown, unkempt garden ... and a suspiciously well-beaten path leading to the garden shed._ _

__When she threw open the door of the shed, she found that he hadn't even tried that hard to hide it. All she had to do was move a wheelbarrow and throw open a trapdoor that anyone who didn't know about Vanko's past might think was nothing more than the cover to a root cellar. But this one led to a set of wide concrete steps going down into darkness._ _

__Peggy stood at the top of the steps and thought about calling it in to the SSR. It was the sensible thing to do. She had no idea what kind of booby traps he had down there, or whether Vanko himself was lying in wait for them._ _

__"Any sign of him?" Howard declared from behind her._ _

__... but the problem was, her conversation with Chief Thompson had made it clear that Howard was skating on thin ice with the SSR. How suspicious _would_ Vanko's involvement look to them? Especially with Vanko at large, and no sign of a second suit ..._ _

__Peggy heaved a sigh. There were times when being Howard's friend was more trouble than it was worth._ _

__"Stay up here," she told him, and, drawing her gun, made her way carefully down into darkness. Mentally, she added a torch to her list of useful items to keep in her handbag. She trailed a hand along the wall beside the stairwell, ignoring the brush of cobwebs and trying to feel for a light switch._ _

__The lights came up anyway just as she reached the bottom. Her first thought was that she'd tripped some kind of alarm, until Howard called down the stairwell, "Hey, did that work? I found a switch up here!"_ _

__"Thank you, now hush!"_ _

__She was standing in a very different lab space than Howard's. This was a small, plain room with a concrete floor and a ceiling so low that she had to duck her head to avoid bashing it on the crudely nailed wooden lintel at the bottom of the stairs. Equipment was jammed into the room so closely that it was difficult to move around. However, the papers scattered about gave little doubt that he'd been working on the suit here. Even Peggy could recognize the cutaway drawings of parts of the suit, drawn in a meticulous style quite at odds with the messiness of the rest of the house._ _

__It appeared some sort of accident had occurred. One wall was blackened, and there were evident signs of a extinguished fire -- blackened lab benches, charred papers. Peggy could even smell a crisp hint of smoke in the air, though it might be nothing more than the power of suggestion._ _

__One useful thing about the cramped space: there was nowhere for anyone to hide. After a quick sweep of the room, she was reassured that they were alone. "You can come down," she called up to Howard._ _

__"This is what he calls a lab?" was Howard's unimpressed comment, right before running into the lintel. "Ow!"_ _

__"You have investors and a vast fortune, Howard. I'm surprised he's managed to do this much with the resources he has." Peggy returned her gun to her bag. "Do you think he was able to build it down here, in such a small space?"_ _

__"I'd guess he did most of the preliminary construction and testing here, then did the final assembly upstairs." Howard examined a piece of curved metal that Peggy realized, when Howard fitted it against his own forearm, was part of the suit's armored gauntlets. "It looks like he's using the prototype plans. Makes sense. The vision was mine; Vanko just provided some assistance with the electronics and shielding systems. He wouldn't have been able to improve significantly on the design by himself --"_ _

__"If you're _quite_ done touting your own intelligence, Howard, it appears that the man built a suit by himself in his basement, which I consider rather impressive, don't you?"_ _

__"Oh, sure, if you're impressed by total hackwork. Look at these welds! Utterly subpar."_ _

__"As you're the expert at these things, Howard, do you think you could examine the lab for clues to Vanko's current location? I'll certainly be no help at it, so I'll take the house."_ _

__She left Howard looking content in the lab and climbed the stairs to the shed with a certain amount of relief -- which lasted until she popped her head up and glimpsed someone coming around the corner of the house._ _

__Peggy ducked back behind the shed door. She recognized Vanko from his photo, though he looked considerably worse for wear compared to the dapper man in the picture. He was sweaty and tired-looking, wearing rough clothes more like a workman's than the clothes of a man who worked in an office._ _

___He's been in the armor,_ she thought, peeking around the door. There was no way to be certain, but that was definitely how _she_ looked after she'd been wearing the Ironclad armor: sweaty, exhausted, and considerably rumpled._ _

__Vanko was looking around nervously. Peggy called around the door, "Anton Vanko?"_ _

__He must have jumped a foot in the air. Peggy took her warrant card out of the purse and flipped it out as she stepped into sight. "Mr. Vanko, I'm Agent Carter with the SSR. I only want to talk to you."_ _

__Vanko flinched back and his hand vanished under his jacket. Peggy felt her own fingers twitch toward her service weapon._ _

__"Where is Stark?" Vanko demanded._ _

__"It's just me," she said, keeping her voice calm and hoping Howard had the sense to stay out of sight. She had a feeling that Howard's particular brand of diplomacy would be the opposite of helpful in the present situation._ _

__"Liar. Unless the SSR issues its agents new-model Bentley automobiles."_ _

__"It's true that I borrowed the car from Howard, but I'm not here officially," she said. "I just want to talk."_ _

__Vanko drew a gun from under his jacket. Peggy tensed and assessed the situation. His hand was trembling. He was more nervous than homicidal -- but a nervous finger on the trigger was just as deadly, and even more unpredictable. "_ _

__"Sure, we can talk," he said. "If you come inside with me."_ _

__Peggy took a deep breath and had just slipped her hand surreptitiously into her handbag -- and the gun hidden inside -- when Howard popped up on the stairs behind her. "Anton!" he began, and then saw the gun. And Peggy saw the look of pure hatred that crossed Vanko's face, along with the tightening of his finger on the trigger._ _

__"Damn it, Howard!"_ _

__She threw herself over Howard, flinging both of them into the stairwell, as Vanko fired at them. Bullets grazed the side of the stairwell and splintered the flimsy wood of the garden shed._ _

__"Anton, you madman, this is why I fired you!" Howard yelled up the stairs._ _

__"Shut up and stay down here!" Peggy snapped. She drew her gun and risked a peek, just in time to see Vanko sprint around the side of the house._ _

__" _Stay here!"_ she shouted at Howard, and ran after him. She dashed around the corner of the house and backpedaled wildly as the back door of a truck in the driveway slammed open to reveal the second suit of Ironclad armor, with Vanko just snapping the last gauntlet around his wrist._ _

__She could see what Howard meant about the suit being a prototype. It was noticeably bulkier than her own, with a heavy, utilitarian look to it. The suit Howard had made for her had the graceful curves of an automobile's fenders. This one looked industrial._ _

__Facing the suit -- armored and invincible against anything short of running it over with an automobile -- she desperately wished she had her armor as well. But it was across the East River from here, where it might as well have been on the moon for all the good it did her._ _

__The suit's helmet swung her way. It brought up its steel hands, and Peggy had to fight to stand her ground. If this suit was anything like Howard's, there could be all manner of weapons hidden in those gauntlets._ _

__"Vanko, damn it!" she shouted. "You've nothing to gain from this! I'm just here to talk to you --"_ _

__She recognized the click of the left gauntlet because her suit's weapons worked the same way, and threw herself out of the way as a spray of bullets raked across the side of the house. Vanko stomped past her, around the side of the house._ _

__Peggy fired after him, but the bullets caromed off the armor, as she'd suspected they would._ _

__"Howard!" she shouted at maximum volume. "Get out of there!"_ _

__She glimpsed Howard look out of the garden shed and then hastily duck back inside seconds before a searing jet of flame from Vanko's gauntlet-mounted flamethrower (ah, so he had one of those too) scorched the shed with a sheet of flame. Peggy seized a garden hose looped over a hook on the side of the house and turned it on Vanko full blast. The flamethrowers sizzled out and so did some of the garden shed. She hoped Howard had had the presence of mind to dive down the stairs._ _

__Vanko swung around, and Peggy had a moment to think she'd just made a terrible mistake before he took off in a blast from his jets, swooping up and over the house._ _

__Meanwhile, the garden shed was still flaming. Peggy turned the hose on it, then when that didn't seem to be doing as much as she'd like (and Howard still hadn't reappeared) turned the hose on herself for a moment and went in to get him._ _

__

__***_ _

__

__"You do get yourself into some scrapes, Howard," Peggy coughed, dropping a slightly singed Howard on the lawn. "Are you all right?"_ _

__"Lab's pretty close to fireproof with the door shut," Howard wheezed. "Where'd he go?"_ _

__"I don't know, I was busy stopping you from burning to death! The car --"_ _

__.... was going to be no help, because Vanko had set fire to it as he left._ _

__"He's going somewhere," Peggy said, resting her hands on her knees. "He didn't even stay to check that you were dead."_ _

__"Could be after Stark Industries, or my other labs." Howard coughed and cleared his throat. "So, about that thing I've been working on where you can call the suit to you ..."_ _

__"I hope it wasn't in the car."_ _

__Howard grinned at her, despite his mustache being somewhat singed. "Right here, actually."_ _

__He unwound the strap of the satchel from around his neck and pulled out what looked like one of the SSR's radios, but larger, and with a good deal more dials and switches. Peggy decided to sit on the lawn as Howard began flipping switches. "Damn," he muttered, and held it up._ _

__"Is this going to take long?"_ _

__"Depends on whether the signal is getting through ..."_ _

__Peggy got the impression that Howard was as surprised as she was when a spark of fire in the eastern sky resolved into the Ironclad armor. Her first instinct was to duck, but it was definitely theirs, not Vanko's. It belly-flopped on top of what remained of the car._ _

__"Still need to work on landings," Howard muttered._ _

__They dragged the armor off the car, and Peggy scrambled to put it on, with Howard assisting. "Tell me where you think he's going," she said. "Does he know about the lab under the mansion?"_ _

__"Er ... I'm not sure. It's more likely he's going to Stark Industries."_ _

__"Call them!" Peggy ordered. "Have it evacuated!"_ _

__She fired the jets and skyrocketed into the air._ _

__

__***_ _

__

__It turned out that finding Vanko wasn't much of a problem. He was standing on a platform supporting an antenna array at the very top of the Stark Industries complex. Below, a frantic evacuation was taking place._ _

__"Finally you come out to fight me properly, Howard," Vanko shouted at her through his suit's speakers._ _

__"First of all," Peggy said, "I'm not Howard."_ _

__"Liar!"_ _

__Taking off the helmet would have proven it, but Peggy wasn't especially eager to do it when she would be risking a flame blast in the face. "Is that what all this is about?" she asked. "You wanted Howard to fight you?"_ _

__"And then I'll prove to you that my suit is superior. You'll regret the day you fired me!"_ _

__At least the helmet prevented him from seeing her roll her eyes._ _

__"So let's talk about it away from witnesses," Peggy told him, and blasted off, loop-de-looping through the sky above the city skyline. She looked back and was pleased to see he was following her as she dove over the waterfront and a bank of warehouses. The chance of hurting an innocent bystander was much less here than in the crowded business district around Stark Industries._ _

__"Stand still, damn you!" Vanko bellowed after her. A burst of gunfire rattled past her, expending itself harmlessly on the clear blue sky._ _

__Peggy adjusted her jets and turned to face him in midair. "If you've come for a fight, you'll be greatly disappointed," she told him. "I have no desire to fight you. If you wish to be apprehended and turned in to the SSR, however ..."_ _

__"Oh, you think you can take me without a fight?" He wound up for another shot; Peggy jogged the armor neatly to one side. She was getting quite good at dodging. "Stop that! Are you afraid of an honest fight?"_ _

__"I'll happily take you on out of the armor," Peggy told him. Popping him with a fist in the face would be rather satisfying at this point._ _

__"Oh, you're afraid of my armor now, eh? Good! Look at yourself! You made yourself an armored suit with the help of a full lab and a team of trained assistants," Vanko ranted. "I built one in my basement that's better than yours. Who's useless _now_ , Howard?"_ _

__"Good God, man, listen to yourself," Peggy said when she could get a word in edgewise. "You've allowed yourself to warp your life around Howard Stark. Stop for a minute and look at what you've accomplished. Your suit is incredible. What does it matter if Howard recognizes what you've done or not?"_ _

__"I don't want you to recognize me," Vanko roared. "I want to destroy you! You'll admit that I'm better than you with your last dying breath."_ _

__"There's no need for dramatics. I -- what are you doing?"_ _

__Vanko moved his armored arm in an overhand throwing motion, and something snapped out of the hand of the suit. It looked like a bullwhip, and it lashed around Peggy's arm before she could pull away._ _

__"Admit I'm better than you, Stark!" the augmented voice boomed._ _

__"I am not Howard Stark, you wanker!" She struggled with whatever was holding her. It seemed to be some kind of steel cable. She couldn't just fly away._ _

__"You made me do this," Vanko roared at her, and then suddenly everything lit up with white light. Peggy's scream was lost in the pain arcing through her._ _

__

__***_ _

__

__She woke to a different light -- the brilliant blue of the sky -- and a worried voice saying her name._ _

__"Ow," she groaned. She tried to raise a hand to touch her face. Her arm seemed to weigh a million pounds. Oh ... she was still in the suit. No, wait, she felt air on her face ..._ _

__"No -- Carter -- don't try to move --"_ _

__"Don't tell me what to do," she groaned, and then her eyes snapped open fully, her brain starting to work at full efficiency. "Jack! Where did you come from? No -- don't --"_ _

__She tried to push him away and nearly sent him flying with a sideswipe from the suit's arm. At least _some_ of the hydraulics still worked. Struggling to get her body to work properly (her muscles still twitched and fluttered), she feathered the suit's jets enough to get herself sitting upright. _ _

__She was sitting in the wreckage of what had been part of a warehouse before she fell on it. Jack was crouched in front of her, his suit smeared with soot and grease. There were pieces of the suit around them, although most of it was still on her, and she realized he'd pried off the helmet to see if she was still alive. And also incidentally to find out who she was._ _

__"Was anyone hurt?" she asked, with a sudden surge of worry._ _

__"Not other than you, as far as I can tell --"_ _

__"Vanko," she interrupted. "Where is he. Did you see him leave?"_ _

__Jack sat back on his heels. "Is that the other guy? I did see him go -- hell, I drove him off, shooting at him. If _that_ one is even a 'him'."_ _

__"It's a him." Peggy took off one of the suit's gloves and probed at her face. No wonder Jack was looking at her the way he was. There was blood all over the side of her head and her nose was smeared with the stuff._ _

__Jack frowned, watching her trying to wipe at the blood with the back of her hand. "You want a handkerchief, Marge?"_ _

__"That would be appreciated, thank you." She took it and began to blot at her face._ _

__"You really oughta be laying down," Jack said. "You fell from a good thirty feet up."_ _

__"Were you _following_ me?" _ _

__"Stark called the SSR," Jack said. "We've been monitoring the fight."_ _

__Well, she couldn't exactly fault Howard. He'd probably thought she was going to get herself killed. Peggy lowered the kerchief and looked thoughtfully at Jack, considering the implications that he was apparently here by himself. "Did you know? Before?"_ _

__He didn't have to ask her what she meant. "Not ... completely. I mean, we had no way to be sure --"_ _

__"We?"_ _

__"Sousa and I --"_ _

__"You and _Daniel?"_ She had a brief image of the two of them conspiring behind her back._ _

__"We've been comparing notes ever since the Stark thing," Jack admitted, glancing away. "Look, I gotta give Sousa credit here. He's the one who figured your Underwood story didn't quite add up, and he's the one who's been pushing to convince me. I had my suspicions, but you gotta admit it's --"_ _

__"Jack," she said, "where is Daniel now?"_ _

__"Went to Stark's," Jack said. "After we saw you and the other guy fighting, and he figured --"_ _

__"He went to Howard's?" She tried to struggle to her feet -- and went nowhere, the suit resisting her. She fumbled to put the glove with the rocket controls back on. "I have to get there. That's where Vanko will be going too, sooner or later. The main lab for the armor is at Howard's house, not at Stark Industries."_ _

__"Really? We went over that place with a fine-toothed comb during the investigation --"_ _

__"No you didn't, you barely got inside. All you know about is the vault. But Vanko appears to be well acquainted with Howard's habit of building hidden labs, since he built one of his own. I have to get there!"_ _

__"Whoa, settle down." Jack helped heave her to her feet. The rockets did nothing; that one tiny burst to sit up seemed to be all they had in them. "Holy crap, that thing's heavy. You gonna fly there?"_ _

__"Apparently not," Peggy said grimly, as repeated pounding of the button in her glove did nothing but hurt her thumb. As much damage as the suit had taken, it was likely to do nothing but drop her in Manhattan's financial district even if she managed to get off the ground. "I don't suppose --"_ _

__"Say no more, I was gonna offer you a ride anyway."_ _

__"Where's my helmet?" At least they were in the warehouse district, but even so, bystanders were starting to drift around as curious dockworkers came to find out what was happening. "I can't stagger about with my face uncovered."_ _

__"Not good for the image?" Jack asked, helping her pull the badly dinged helmet over her hair. Half of it was in her eyes; she tried to swipe it back and nearly punched herself in the face with a metal gauntlet._ _

__"What isn't good for the image is having anyone see Ironclad with a woman's face."_ _

__"Oh." Jack seemed suddenly subdued, or perhaps just thoughtful._ _

__She was still very dizzy, but was able to walk on her own, using the suit's hydraulics to make up for the strength and balance she didn't currently have. They arrived at Jack's car and immediately a new problem presented itself._ _

__"You might need to take that off, Peggy ..."_ _

__"There isn't time!" she snapped out. "We're on a loading dock. You can move faster than I currently can. Commandeer something capable of carrying this monstrosity."_ _

__To give him credit, Jack wasted no time dashing off and, moments later, backed up to her with a truck. "Hop on," he yelled out the window._ _

__"This is not Ironclad's finest hour," Peggy grumbled as she struggled to step up to the back of the truck with the suit's damaged legs. Walking had worked fine; taking a high step, perhaps not so much._ _

__"If you need a crane, I can find one ..."_ _

__"I suggest you stop talking." She managed the feat by simply falling forward, with a clang like a heap of tin washtubs, landing on her face in the bed of the truck. "Drive!" she barked out as she worked to pull her legs in._ _

__Jack did at least have the common sense or at least the self-preservation not to say anything as he tore away._ _

__

__***_ _

__

__Peggy spent the ride uptown trying to ascertain how much of her suit was still working. So much for Howard's new improved hydraulics ... though she could only imagine how much worse it would have been if she'd been using the old system. Closing valves as Howard had shown her, she got the damaged hydraulic sections shut off, and was able to move normally with all of it except the left leg, which still hitched oddly. At least it moved. In the old suit, she'd have been immobilized after a fall like that._ _

__Meanwhile Jack tore around slower vehicles, pedestrians, and cyclists, occasionally veering onto the sidewalk and making a general road hazard of himself, but he got her uptown in much less time than she'd believed possible._ _

__But still not enough time. They skidded into the driveway of Howard's mansion with a shriek of tortured tires, and as Peggy stumbled off the ramp of the truck, she found the house with one wall smashed through. It looked like Vanko had decided not to bother with doors._ _

__Jack cursed under his breath and drew his gun._ _

__"Stay behind me," Peggy said, and giving no argument, he did. She lurched through the broken wall. Inside, there was furniture upended and probably-valuable pieces of artwork shattered on the floor. "Angie? Daniel? Vanko, are you in here?"_ _

___Please, let Angie have an early shift today ..._ _ _

__There was a sudden shriek and something sprang at them from the side. Jack spun around, raising his gun. Peggy lashed out with a hydraulic-assisted arm and checked him -- probably painfully, to judge from Jack's yelp._ _

__"Take that!" Angie yelled, as her broom rebounded off Peggy's helmet and gave Peggy's already sore brain another painful jostling._ _

___Really must talk to Howard about more padding in this thing ..._ she thought. "Angie! It's me!"_ _

__"Oh," Angie said, lowering the broom. "Oh, thank goodness, English, I thought -- ack!" She clapped one hand over her mouth and pointed wordlessly at Jack with the broom._ _

__"He knows about me. Jack, please don't shoot her. Angie, where's Vanko?."_ _

__Angie pointed. "The secret lab. English, I'm so sorry. He came busting in here -- no, I'm telling it wrong, your SSR friend was here first --"_ _

__"Where is Daniel now?"_ _

__"In the lab with Vanko." Angie wrung her hands. "That armor guy said he's going to prove something to Mr. Stark."_ _

__"I know. Was Daniel hurt when you last saw him?"_ _

__Angie shook her head._ _

__"Jack, get her somewhere safe," Peggy declared, shoving Angie at him. "And call it in."_ _

__She stomped toward the entrance to the secret lab. At least Vanko couldn't have trapped himself more readily, like a rat in a trap. Now all she had to do was get Daniel out._ _

__And then she stopped._ _

__She couldn't approach quietly in the suit. Vanko would hear her coming as soon as her footsteps fell on the stairs. And with her suit damaged and his suit intact, she was at a severe disadvantage in a fight anyway. It wasn't as if keeping the suit on would help her much._ _

__"Jack," she said, turning back. She was not terribly surprised to find that Jack and Angie hadn't gone far; it looked like Jack was trying to get her to go to the car. "Jack!"_ _

__She struggled with the helmet for a moment before she managed to pull it off. Something warm and wet was trickling down her face, maybe sweat, maybe blood. Angie blanched at the sight of her, reminding Peggy that her face was not its best at the moment._ _

__"Don't go anywhere. I need you to do something for me. It's dangerous," she added._ _

__"Hell, that's the job, isn't it?" Jack said. As Peggy struggled with the armor, he stepped forward and started helping her clumsily with the arm._ _

__"No, it comes off like this." Angie began briskly taking off the other arm._ _

__"You told the waitress but you didn't tell the _federal agents_ you work with?"_ _

__"It's complicated." Peggy gritted her teeth as she discovered new scrapes and bruises with each piece of armor they pulled off. "Angie, there's something you could do as well, as long as you promise to stay far back and get out immediately if fighting begins."_ _

__

__***_ _

__

__Five minutes later, she was hiding at the top of the stairs while Jack, clumsily trying to maneuver in the armor, descended with enough noise for an entire wartime munitions factory. Peggy wished the secret lab had more than one entrance; ah well, the distraction would have to do._ _

__"Vanko!" She had to hand it to Jack ... and Howard. With the suit augmentation, the voice sounded nothing like Jack's._ _

__"Stark!" Vanko's voice boomed back. "I knew a threat to your research would get your interest if nothing else did."_ _

__"Is that what I sound like?" Peggy whispered to Angie. She'd never heard the suit's augmented voice from the outside._ _

__Angie nodded. "It's really something, ain't it?"_ _

__"It's certainly loud."_ _

__They needn't have bothered whispering. It was likely that neither Vanko nor Jack could hear anything over the booming echoes coming up the stairwell._ _

__"It's time to stop playing games, Anton." To her impressed ears, it sounded like Jack was even trying to mimic the cadence of Howard's speech. Not that he needed to put that much work into it, she thought. If Vanko couldn't even tell that _she_ wasn't Howard, it was probably unnecessary for Jack to go to the trouble. But it did help sell it._ _

__"Oh, are you ready to stop lying and face what you've done, _Mister_ Stark?"_ _

__"And what's that, exactly?" Jack asked smoothly. Peggy had a sudden alarmed feeling that she hadn't told him enough about what he needed to know. On the other hand, he was doing a perfect, probably only half intentional impression of Howard in full "deny and cover" mode._ _

__"You ruined my life!" Vanko bellowed._ _

__Peggy gave Angie a nudge as the conversation went on below. Jack was doing his bit to keep Vanko occupied; now it was up to the rest of them. "You know your part, do you?"_ _

__"I know what to do. After I get that done --"_ _

__"You'll go to the truck in the driveway and start it with the key in the ignition, and you'll do absolutely nothing else, you hear me?"_ _

__Angie looked put upon, but she gave a sloppy salute and ran off. Peggy began creeping down the stairs._ _

__She reached a point where she could see into the lab. Jack and Vanko were squaring off about fifteen feet apart. So far Vanko didn't seem to have a clue that Jack wasn't Howard. Well, it was certainly playing to Jack's strengths, she thought. She'd hoped that his silver tongue could keep this going for awhile, giving her a chance to find Daniel._ _

__Out of the suit, she was all too aware of every ache and pain. Her head hurt abominably, she seemed to have wrenched a knee, and she still had a jangled, dizzy feeling from the shock Vanko had given her earlier._ _

__Vanko was too preoccupied with Jack to so much as notice her slipping off the bottom of the stairs and darting behind a cabinet._ _

__"Daniel!" she whispered as loudly as she dared._ _

__She found him behind a cabinet, bound hand and foot, with his artificial leg nowhere in sight. She'd known he had it, but it was still a shock to her (and, from the furious look in Daniel's eyes above the gag, utterly humiliating to him). Vanko had bound him securely with steel cables. As Peggy reached for the Swiss army knife tucked in her belt -- given to her by Dugan -- Daniel grunted behind the gag and jerked his head at the end of the cable -- where it was hooked to some kind of gadget that was plugged into the wall._ _

__Well, she'd found out firsthand how much fun Vanko's electrical gadgetry was. She snipped that wire first, severing the rest from their power supply. Daniel sagged in relief._ _

__There was a sudden loud clang. It sounded like Jack had run out of Howard-esque excuses, which meant he was actually going to have to figure out how to fight in a suit he didn't know how to use. Peggy began hastily snipping Daniel loose. She tried not to wince at the sight of the bloody gashes at his wrists where he'd struggled with the wire._ _

__Daniel yanked down the gag as soon as he had a hand free. "Peggy, your face," he whispered, trying to reach out to touch it. "Did _he_ do that?"_ _

__He looked mad enough to take on Vanko all on his own. There was another clang and a tremendous crash. Jack was going to get the worse of this very quickly; not only did he have no experience with the suit, but half its functions didn't work at the moment._ _

__"Not now," she whispered. "I'm well enough. Are _you_ all right?"_ _

__"Well enough." Daniel chafed his hands together; the fingers were swollen and purplish, and it must have hurt as the circulation came back. "Feeling kinda dumb right now." He jerked his head at the suit-of-armor fight going on in the main part of the lab. "Heck, Peg, I thought for sure you were --"_ _

__"It's Jack in the suit right now," Peggy said quickly. "He's keeping Vanko occupied." There was another tremendous crash. More like being a human punching bag. On the other hand, Vanko had no intention of doing away with Howard quickly._ _

__" _Jack_ is Ironclad?"_ _

__"No, no -- it's complicated." She quickly scanned the lab. The problem wasn't finding something to attack with; the problem was finding something that wasn't just as likely to rebound onto its user and do more damage to them than to Vanko. She noted with some distant part of her mind that Jack hadn't given them away. He was still playing decoy even when getting the crap beat out of him. She really had to reward that kind of dedication with a proper rescue._ _

__"If Vanko's suit is anything like mine, it'll be vulnerable to electricity and extreme heat or cold," she told Daniel. "The joints are the most vulnerable parts. If you see _anything_ that could help, we've another distraction coming shortly -- I hope."_ _

__"You said I'd never work in this town again!" Vanko bellowed at Jack. "You said I was crazy!"_ _

__"Not really disproving the point!" Jack yelled back. There was another crash._ _

__"How often has he done this?" Daniel asked, pulling himself up on the countertop one-legged so he could peer over the top of it. "Thompson, I mean."_ _

__"Today is the first time."_ _

__"Ah. I can see why this is kind of urgent."_ _

__Just then, the other distraction hit: the lights went out. They were plunged into complete and utter blackness._ _

__Peggy huffed out a small, frustrated breath. Angie had found the circuit breaker just fine; if only she'd waited another few seconds! But she'd had no way to know how long. Peggy had told her three minutes, guessing it would take her at least that long to get down into the lab and find Daniel. Better not enough time than too much, she'd reasoned; if they were caught in the middle of this, they'd need all the distraction they could get. And she thought Angie had actually waited a bit longer than Peggy had asked, giving her a little more time._ _

__A sudden bright light glared in the darkness. It was Vanko, Peggy thought, risking a peek. There was also a helmet light on the Ironclad suit, but Jack probably didn't know that._ _

__In the bright, harsh light, the room was a study in shadows. She could see Vanko's dark shape and the wink of light off Jack's armor as he struggled to get up. There was a harsh smell of chemicals in the air. She hoped their struggle hadn't broken open anything toxic. With the air-filtering properties of the suit, it would do more damage to her and Daniel than to Vanko ..._ _

__"Who's here with you, Stark?" Vanko demanded._ _

__"No one." Jack's voice sounded slightly shaky as he struggled to his feet in the armor. He was definitely taking a beating. His voice getting stronger, he went on, "You don't think I'd have contingency plans? Don't think I can beat you all on my own?"_ _

___Don't oversell it, Jack._ If he really infuriated Vanko, he might not only get himself killed, but send Vanko into enough of a rage to bring down the ceiling and kill the rest of them as well._ _

__She nudged Daniel. Now was their chance to move, and to find something that would bring Vanko down. If inspiration would only present itself. _Damn it, Howard, this is YOUR bailiwick. Where are you when we need you? _____

____There was a sudden, shockingly bright blue-white flash. Peggy clapped her hands over her eyes. Something crackled and Jack gave a sudden scream. She started to rise to her feet._ _ _ _

____Vanko had given up on the slow way and was using those electric whips he'd used on her._ _ _ _

____"Peggy!" Daniel's voice was low and urgent as his hand jerked her back down. "You said electricity, right? You think we could use this?"_ _ _ _

____He had his hand on something large and square, about the size of a washing machine. Peggy was going to ask what it was, when she realized that it was a battery-bank power supply. Howard had his own power supply for the lab -- of course he did._ _ _ _

____"Daniel, you are a genius. And with the power out, he won't expect it. Do you know how to wire this up so it'll work?"_ _ _ _

____"I did demolitions during the war. I think I can figure it out."_ _ _ _

____They moved as a team, she and Daniel, without even needing to talk about it. The reflected glow of Vanko's suit lights gave them enough light to work, even as there was another lightning flash and Jack screamed again. Daniel unplugged the fattest cable in sight, and Peggy hacked at it with her knife, severing it and leaving a twisted mass of copper wires hanging out. Daniel plugged it into the bank of batteries and Peggy, wearing a pair of heavy rubber gloves from the nearest worktable, gripped it below the severed end._ _ _ _

____If Vanko's armor was designed like hers, there would be places where the flexible joints met, giving her openings where she could jam the cable to electrocute both the suit and the person inside. The best opening she could see was the crevice at the waist, just under the jet pack._ _ _ _

____Daniel finished twisting wires and nodded to her._ _ _ _

____She lunged forward and thrusted the cable full strength into that gap._ _ _ _

____There was a crash, not noise so much as a tremendous sense of force, and she dimly heard Daniel shout her name as she was flung to the floor. She lay there with a ringing in her ears, dazed and aching, wondered how bad it would have been if she _hadn't_ been wearing gloves._ _ _ _

____Then she looked up to see Vanko rearing over her, a brilliant light with a dark shape behind it, not noticeably the worse for wear._ _ _ _

____"You fool," Vanko snarled. "You think I didn't protect my own suit against surges? You think I'm _idiot?"__ _ _ _

____"I was very much hoping so." Peggy tried to shake the life back into her numb limbs and managed to scramble out of the way, flinging a table to impede his progress. "Vanko, you've been had!" she shouted at him as she lunged under another table, just as the fist of his suit came down on the one she'd just vacated and crushed it into splinters. "That's not Howard in that suit! It's an SSR agent. Anton! Do you hear me? Howard is nowhere near here. You've just attacked an agent of the SSR -- Vanko, are you listening?"_ _ _ _

____One of the steel whips slashed through the table next to her. In the armor, she hadn't fully appreciated how terrifying those things were. Peggy rolled away, dodging under another table. She wondered if they could trap Vanko in the lab somehow, but they had to get themselves out first ..._ _ _ _

____What other vulnerabilities did the armor have? There was no easy way to gas him; the suit had a built-in air filter, like a miniaturized gas mask. Howard had tried to make the suit impervious to anything that might incapacitate its user. And if Vanko had based it on the original prototype, he would most likely have incorporated all of these things as well._ _ _ _

____Vanko drew back his whips for another attack. There was a sudden loud clang, and Peggy glimpsed a flickering side view of Daniel, who had just brought an enormous spanner down on Vanko's arm. It fell from his hands at the shock of the collision with the armor, and Vanko swatted him with the other arm, sending him flying. Peggy clenched her teeth on a cry of Daniel's name._ _ _ _

____But the arm Daniel had struck was malfunctioning now, seizing up as Vanko tried to crank the whip back in. Daniel had remembered what she'd told him, that the joints were vulnerable. And Vanko wouldn't have the new hydraulics that Howard had designed for her. His suit probably had the old kind, highly vulnerable to damage and prone to incapacitating any limb that lost its hydraulic power assist._ _ _ _

____Where had that spanner gone? She scrambled for it, then rolled away as Vanko's one remaining electric whip cracked across the floor between her and the weapon she was going for._ _ _ _

____Peggy looked around wildly, in the dancing glare of Vanko's suit light, for anything else that might be useful. Her eye fell on a propane tank and attached welding torch. All she needed was a distraction ..._ _ _ _

____"Hey, jerk." Jack lurched out of nowhere, maneuvering the suit with great difficulty. "Pick on someone your own size."_ _ _ _

____Vanko turned to clout him in the helmet, while Peggy dove for the propane tank and fumbled with the valves. She found a lighter on an adjacent workbench. The torch lit up with a blinding blue-white glare and an unexpectedly loud noise. Peggy's swing at Vanko's suit turned into a reflexive jerk of surprise, and the torch stroked a line of red-hot metal down his side. Vanko yelped in pain; that couldn't have felt good inside the suit. He stumbled, and while he was off balance, Peggy slashed the torch across the back of his leg, where she knew her suit was vulnerable as well. There was a hissing and spitting of hot fluids as Vanko's leg froze in a half-bent position._ _ _ _

____Vanko cursed at her, and the whip's steel cable lashed around the torch in her hands. Peggy let go and dived away as an arc of electricity lit it up with a lightning strobe --_ _ _ _

____\-- and ignited the tank. It wasn't a large propane tank, but the explosion was deafening in the enclosed space. It knocked Vanko flat to the floor and sent Peggy, ears ringing, rolling under a worktable._ _ _ _

____"Daniel!" she shouted as she clambered to her feet, reeling and dizzy. "Jack!" She couldn't hear the sound of her own voice, didn't even know if either of them were conscious to hear her, but she still shouted, "Hit him at the joints, it'll break his suit!"_ _ _ _

____She followed up on her own advice by slamming an iron bar down repeatedly on the one working arm of Vanko's suit. He thrashed around weakly. Jack and Daniel showed up together a moment later, dragging what turned out to be a tank of liquid nitrogen. They sprayed him liberally and as his suit froze up, Jack finished up by sitting on him, armor and all._ _ _ _

____"Are you two all right?" Peggy asked, panting. She dropped the iron bar from aching fingers._ _ _ _

____"No," Jack said in a tinny, exhausted voice. "Can you find something _else_ heavy to put on this guy?"_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____***_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____They peeled Vanko out of the suit, and Peggy tied him up with electrical cables and then shut him in one of Howard's metal storage cabinets and locked it._ _ _ _

____When she limped upstairs, she found Angie dabbing at a cut on Daniel's head. Jack (now out of the suit) was sitting slumped on the nearest couch, his head in his hands. When Peggy came in, trailing her hand across the wall for aid in keeping herself upright, Jack glanced up and winced. His face was badly bruised. Peggy shared a rueful smile with him; she had a feeling she looked just as bad._ _ _ _

____"Thank you both for the help," Peggy said. She half-walked, half-stumbled to the most readily available chair and collapsed into it._ _ _ _

____"Jeez, Peg." Angie transferred her anxious attention from Daniel to hovering over Peggy. "You need a doctor or something?"_ _ _ _

____"What I really need," Peggy sighed, flopping her aching head on the back of the chair, "is a very hot, _very_ strong cup of tea."_ _ _ _

____"Gotcha," Angie declared, and hurried off._ _ _ _

____There was a long moment of silence. The breeze blowing through the room finally made Peggy raise her head and glare with weary annoyance at the missing wall, with sunlight slanting through the dust and the side garden visible beyond. This was going to mean workmen tramping about at all hours and probably Howard deciding to add a new solarium or some such ridiculous thing._ _ _ _

____"So who _was_ that guy, exactly?" Daniel asked._ _ _ _

____"An ex-employee of Howard's." Peggy rubbed at her temples. Her ears were still ringing faintly from the explosion._ _ _ _

____"And you've been keeping secrets again," Jack said. "Has it been you all along, or was it ever Howard?"_ _ _ _

____"Me all along."_ _ _ _

____"Guess I owe you five bucks, Sousa."_ _ _ _

____Daniel actually blushed._ _ _ _

____And Peggy managed to find it in herself to smile at him. "Well, at least this time you bet on me instead of against me." She let go of the smile. "Are you going to put this in your report?"_ _ _ _

____"And tell the advisory committee that you've been doing this under our noses for the last year?" Jack said. "You realize _you're_ not the one who comes out looking bad from that perspective, right?"_ _ _ _

____"How are you going to explain the Ironclad knockoff in the basement on your report, then?"_ _ _ _

____"I'll figure something out." Jack grimaced. "It's what they pay me the big bucks for."_ _ _ _

____"So that was really you over the city during the V-E Day celebration," Daniel said. "Locked in a storeroom, my right leg." He grinned suddenly. "You were really something, Peg."_ _ _ _

____Angie came back with the cup of tea just in time to hear this. "She's been really something all along. It's just that you boys didn't see it."_ _ _ _

____As Angie pressed the teacup into Peggy's still-shaky hands, Peggy could feel herself blushing slightly. It was both embarrassing and ... something else. The warm feeling started under her breastbone and spread throughout her body. She didn't quite know how to trust the idea of having people in her life who would keep secrets for her. She wasn't even sure whether she believed that they _would_ keep her secret when it really came down to it. But being Ironclad would certainly be easier if she had a few other people she could rely on._ _ _ _

____She just hoped she could talk Howard out of adding _yet more_ enhancements when he fixed the suit this time. Though a little bit of electricity resistance might not go amiss._ _ _ _


End file.
